Hole In One - Part1
by Roxanne Kowalchuk
Summary: Jack goes golfing. And the adventure begins.
1. Default Chapter Title

Title: Hole in One - Part 1

Author: Roxanne Kowalchuk

Feedback: roxette@ilos.net

Category: Romance, Humor

Rating: PG

Disclaimers: Stargate Sg-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. 

Spoilers: None.

Summary: Jack goes golfing. And the adventure begins.

Archives: SJA... and anywhere else. (Just tell me, please).

**********

  
  


Stopping in mid step, Jack did a three sixty. "Uh Major, this is a golf course."

"Wow, you're bright today."

Slowly turning his head towards her, he eyed her. "Major."

Realizing what she said sounded a little mean, she apologized. "Sorry sir."

"Why are we at a golf course?"

Pulling her golf bag out of the trunk of her car, Sam answered him. "Because you said you were up to trying something different and you asked to tag along."

"Oh ya," Jack replied as he watched Sam. "Where's my clubs?"

"We're going to have to rent them."

"Rented clubs?"

"Yes, don't worry they'll work fine," Sam said as she closed her trunk and put her golf bag strap over her shoulder. "Come on Jack, it won't be that bad."

"Ya right, I've never golfed before."

"It's just like playing hockey, sir."

"How? In hockey you have to hit a black rubber puck, golf it's a little white ball."

"Or orange, yellow and pink. But I think they make purple golf balls now, too. I've seen them once before," Sam told him as they walked to the Pro Shop together. "Don't worry Jack, you'll do fine."

"For some reason, I'm not believing you."

Putting her clubs down, she saw Jack look at them oddly. "It's a golf bag stand, beats dropping them on the ground all the time."

"Okay," Jack replied as he gave his head a shake. Before he could complain about anything else, he soon followed her into the Pro Shop.

  
  


*****

  
  


"Expensive place," Jack commented as he watched a golfer two tee boxes down from him hit a golf ball down the driving range. "$35 bucks each to play golf."

"But it's worth it," Sam told him as she dumped a few balls from the yellow bucket situated beside her tee box onto the ground. Selecting a club, she put a yellow driving range ball onto the plastic tee, and did a few stretches. "You should get warmed up first, Jack. Won't want you to pull something."

"Course not," Jack repeated in pure sarcasm. Turning around, he selected a club and walked up onto the tee box. Bending down, he pulled a few balls out of the yellow bucket, dropped them on the ground and then placed one on top of the tee. Looking around, he watched other golfers to see how they were hitting the ball. Figuring he knew how, he got into his stance. 

Walking her CO, Sam had to bite the inside of her cheek. She had been watching him ever since he got up on the tee box. But what was really making her laugh was his stance. Watching him swing, she watched as the club went over the tee completely missing the ball. Placing a hand over her mouth, she tried to hold back her laughter. 

Thinking he had hit the ball, Jack looked down. In front of the tee sat his ball. He hadn't hit it at all, it had fallen off the tee. Bending back down, he placed it back on the tee and stood up. Once again he got into his stance. And once again, he swung. 

Having problems holding back her laughter, Sam decided that Jack needed help. "Jack."

After examining his golf ball, Jack placed it back on the tee for the second time and turned around. "Yes."

"Watch how I swing," Sam instructed as she got into her stance. First her spread her feet apart, lining her left foot up with the tee. Next she bent her knees, kept her head down, moved the club back while bending her elbows and bringing her left foot up so that she was on her toes while planting her right foot. That was just her back swing. On the way back, she straightened both her arms, planted her left foot and bent her right knee and kept her head down. She swung straight threw resting the club on her shoulder before she looked up. And once she did look up, she spotted her ball fly pass the 175 mark. "That's how you do it."

"I've been doing that," Jack told her.

"Have you?" she questioned. 

"Yes," Jack answered as he tried not to lose his temper. 'How dare she question me,' he thought. 'I'm new at this.'

"Okay, let's see," Sam replied as she put her club down and walked over to his tee box. "Turn around."

"Fine," Jack said as he did. "Now what?"

Walking around Jack, so that she was standing in front of him, she looked down to his club. "Let's start with your grip."

"My grip?" 

"Yes, you're gripping the club as if you're holding a hockey stick," Sam replied as she moved his hands closer together. "There grip it like that."

Looking down at his hands, Jack made a face and looked back up. "My grip was fine the way I had it."

"No it wasn't. This is golf Jack, not hockey."

Giving up that argument, for the time being, Jack continued on. "Now what?"

"Your stance is wrong," Sam admitted as she looked down at his feet. 

"My stance?"

"Yup, your stance," she replied as she walked beside him and bent down. "Line your left foot up with the tee."

"Why?"

"Because it will help with your swing," Sam answered as she moved his feet apart. "Is that comfortable?"

"No."

"Okay, adjust your feet as to how you want them," Sam instructed as she stood up and returned to stand in front of him.

Shaking his head, Jack stared at her. "Remind me as to why I'm doing this, again." 

"Because you want to learn how to golf," Sam answered with a smiled. "Now are you comfy with your stance?"

Looking away from her, Jack looked down at his feet. Moving his feet a little further apart, he bent his knees once and looked back to her. "I'm comfy."

"Good."

"Good?"

"Yup. Now we work on your swing."

"My swing?" Jack questioned. "I was doing very well with my swing before you interrupted me and made me watch you."

"No you weren't," Sam admitted. "You missed the ball both times."

"You were watching me?"

"Yup," she answered, truthfully. "Now that we have your grip right and your legs spread apart, you need to have your knees bent."

"My knees bent?"

"Yes," Sam replied as she walked around him. Poking him in the knees, she watched as he had no choice but to bend his knees. "Good, now stay like that."

"Stay like this? How? And why?"

"Because if you don't bend your knees, you could hurt yourself."

"Well I could hurt myself just standing like this," Jack complained.

"Jack, will you stop," Sam told him with a smile. He couldn't see her smile, she was behind him.

"Stop what?"

"Second guessing me. I know what I'm doing."

"Okay fine," he gave in.

"Wow, that was quick."

"What was?"

"You giving in."

"Oh. You did tell me to stop it," Jack told her.

"I know, now listen up."

"I'm all ears."

Shaking her head, Sam did something that she knew he wasn't expecting. She wrapped her arms around his waist and held onto the club with him.

A tad shocked, Jack questioned her. "Ah Sam?"

"It's okay Jack, I'm just going to help you out."

"Ah, okay," Jack replied. At the moment, his mind was spinning. 

"Now with your stance, I want you to pull your club back. But as you do, I want you to keep your knees bent, bend your elbows plant your right foot and stand on the tip of your left foot."

"Is that all?" he asked, sarcastically.

"Nope."

"Nope?"

"I also want you to keep your head down."

"My head down?"

"Yes," Sam replied as she started to moved the club back. When the club was up in the air, she quickly gave him the rest of the instructions. "When you swing through, straighten your arms, shift your weight from your right foot to your left, bend your knees and hit the ball. Oh and when you follow through, bend your elbows and remember to keep your head down."

About to follow through, Jack brought the club back down. "That is a lot of instructions."

"Yes it is, but it works. Now let's try it."

"Ah sure," he replied as he had to keep telling himself to breath. Just the thought of Sam standing there with her arms around his waist made him lose all concentration. 

"All right, let's do this," Sam instructed as she brought him out of his little world. As they went through the swing, Sam was able to hear the club come in contact with the yellow golf ball.

Following through with the swing, she then looked up and spotted his ball. "Good hit."

"Why thank you," Jack teased as he tried to find his ball. He had no luck, whatsoever. "Where'd my ball go?"

"It stopped before the 100 mark."

"And how do you know that?"

"I saw it."

"How?"

"How, what?"

"Well you told me to keep my head down."

"Ya I did, but once you follow through with the swing, you can look up."

"Oh sure, now you tell me."

"Jack," Sam replied with a laugh. Changing the subject a bit, she continued on. "Should I stay here and try one more swing with you?" She was hoping he'd say yes. Being so close to him, was making her forget about his complaining and was making him tolerable.

Not wanting her to leave, Jack wholeheartedly agreed. "Sure. Just to be on the safe side."

"Okay, put another ball on the tee," Sam said as she let go of him for a second. When the ball was on the tee, she once again snaked her arms around his waist and grabbed onto the club. "Ready?"

"Uh huh," Jack said as he tried concentrating on the ball, but his mind was somewhere else, all together.

After the swing, Sam saw that the ball went wide right. "Ouch, bad slice Jack," she told him as she took her arms off him. "Maybe you should try it without me. Just remember to keep your head down."

Disappointed, Jack peered over his shoulder and watched her. "If you say so."

"I do," Sam replied as she walked back to her own club and picked it up. The closeness they had just shared had started to bug her. Don't get her wrong, she loved it but they were in the public, so she didn't want anyone to see her. That's how rumor's started.

Turning his attention back to his own tee box, Jack mumbled to himself. "I do could get you into a lot of trouble, depends on how you look at it."

Putting a ball on her own tee, Sam concentrated and sent her ball right down the middle of the driving range. 'Gawd, how I want him,' she told herself as she watched Jack swing his club.

  
  


*****

  
  


"How many holes again?"

"Eighteen."

"Eighteen holes?" Jack half asked and whined at the same time.

"Yes."

"And we have to walk all those eighteen holes?"

"No, I rented a cart. Don't worry Jack, you don't have to walk. And trust me, it won't be as bad as you're thinking. We've been through worse," Sam explained to him.

"But at least I knew what I was doing," Jack complained. "And I have to admit, I got no clue. I don't know what the hell I'm doing."

"Yes you do."

"I do?"

"Uh huh, you're hitting a little golf ball with a club and enjoying your day," Sam explained as she put her tee into the ground and balance her pink ball on top of it. "Don't worry."

"That's it, I'm worrying," Jack replied as he watched her turn around and glared at him. "Fine, I'll be quiet."

Concentrating on her golf swing she was about to take, Sam decided to have some fun. Wiggling her hips, she peeked over her shoulder to see what Jack was doing. He was standing off to the side just staring at her. Smiling to herself for her little plan had worked, so she looked back down to her ball and swung. She ended up hitting the ball straight down the middle of the fairway. "Hmm, not the greatest hit but it should do," Sam announced as she picked up her tee. "Your turn, Jack."

"Ya," Jack replied as he walked to the men's tee box. Positioning his tee and ball where he wanted them, he then decided to do one practice swing. When he thought he was ready, he took an actual swing at the ball. The ball sailed wide right onto the other fairway. "Oh, for crying out loud!"

"It's okay Jack, we'll find it," Sam said as she tried to sound helpful, but on the inside she was laughing. That was typical Jack.

"Sure," Jack replied as he picked his tee up and stomped over to the cart. Dropping his club into his bag, he jumped in. "Let's go."

  
  


*****

SECOND HOLE

  
  


"I'll give you seven," Sam told Jack as he walked up to the tee box.

"Trying to make me feel better?" Jack asked as he positioned his tee and ball.

"Ummm... "

"Ya, that's what I thought," Jack said as he cut her off and concentrated on his swing. 

Watching his ball take off, Sam saw it drop. "It's near the trees on the right side."

Picking up his tee, Jack walked back to the cart. "Thanks. Where's the ladies tee?"

"Further up."

"Ah," Jack replied as Sam started the cart and drove down the path and over the little bridge.

  
  


After parking the cart and getting out, she selected her club then walked to the ladies tee.

Putting her tee into the ground, she then balanced her ball on the top of it. Getting into her stance, she once again, not on purpose, wiggled her hips. 'Oops,' she told herself as she swung her club. Her oops cost her ball to go to the left. "Yikes, bad slice," she announced to whomever was listening.

As soon as she got back into the cart, that was when Jack took it upon himself to question her. "Problems?"

"I wasn't concentrating," Sam admitted. "Next tee box I will be."

"Sure you will," Jack replied as he arched an eyebrow at her.

Taking a quick look over at Jack, Sam didn't know if Jack had meant that to be a threat, meaning he was going to do something to her or not. She would just have to wait and see.

  
  


Driving to his ball first, she waited patiently as he did his best to get it close to the green. "Good shot."

"Thanks. I still say hockey is better."

"Ya I know," Sam replied as Jack jumped into the cart and she took off. "Just try to enjoy yourself, will ya."

"I'll try."

"Good," Sam said as she pulled up beside the bush where she hoped her ball had landed.

  
  


*****

THIRD HOLE

  
  


"Short hole."

"Yup but you have to avoid the body of water," Sam told him as she pulled the cart along side of the chain link fence. "Go ahead. Give it your best shot."

Eyeing her first, he then turned to his golf bag. He wasn't to sure what club to take. "Hey, what club would you suggest?"

"Try either a 5 iron or 3 iron," Sam answered right away.

"Okay," Jack said as he thought her answer was just a little to fast. But he did as she had answered, he picked the 5 iron and he wandered over to the tee box. After getting his tee and ball all set up, Jack swung at it. Watching his ball sailed over the water, he soon started shouting at it.

"No, keep going. NO!" SPLASH! was all he heard. Turning to Sam, he questioned her. "Can I take that over?"

"Sure, since it's your first time out. Go ahead," she answered as she turned away to hide her grin.

Going back to the cart, Jack put the 5 iron back and took out 3. Grabbing a new ball, he returned to his tee. Setting the ball down, he looked to the flag and back down to his ball. Taking a swing, Jack quickly looked up to see his ball sailed over the water and land on the back of the green. "YES!" he yelled as he dropped his club and raised his hands into the air. "I finally got it on the green thingy."

Trying not to laugh, Sam corrected him. "It's just called the green, Jack."

"Oh sure get technical on me, doctor," Jack replied with a goofy grin as he put his arms down and picked his club up.

Giving in and laughing, Sam grabbed her club and walked to her tee box. Positioning her tee and ball, she once again, out of habit now, wiggled her hips. Looking to the flag then down at her ball, she took her swing. Her ball ended up on the edge of the cup. 

"Nice hit," Jack told her as he sat in the cart. 

"Thanks, I haven't done that in awhile."

"Oh?"

"Use to be able to get at least a hole in one when I use to play," Sam explained. 

"I see, maybe you'll get lucky today," Jack offered.

"Maybe," Sam replied as she dropped her club in her bag and got in.

  
  


*****

TWO HOLES LATER

  
  


Watching Jack get ready to swing, Sam quickly spoke up. But that was the worse mistake she could of ever made. "Jack, wait."

"Oh no," Jack replied as he continued through with his swing. Hearing her just as he made contact with the ball, he then heard her speak out in pain. 

"Ouch!"

Quickly turning to his right, he found Sam rubbing her shin. "Sam, you all right?"

"Ya, my fault," she said as she sat down.

Dropping his club, he walked over to her. Sitting down across from her, he picked up her leg and placed it in his lap. Rolling up her pant leg, he ran his hand over her shin. "You'll probably have a good size bruise."

"Probably," Sam agreed.

Gently rubbing her shin, Jack looked over at her. "What was it you wanted, any ways?"

"I was going to tell you to turn your club a little."

"Why?"

"Because that's what was making you slice the ball to the right."

"Oh, okay. I think I understand," Jack replied as he kept rubbing. 

Staring into his eyes, Sam didn't say a word. But in the back of her mind, she knew they were in trouble. This wasn't the time or the place for what was about to happen.

Leaning towards her, Jack closed the distance between them. As his lips touched hers, he heard someone from a few holes over yell something. Moving back, he questioned her. "What was that?"

"Somebody yelled fore."

"Fore?"

"Ya, you yell it when you're going to hit somebody," Sam explained.

"Oh, okay," Jack said as he got it. "I guess I should have said that before I hit you?"

Smiling at him, Sam answered. "Something like that."

"Ah."

Hating to break the moment up, Sam did any ways. "Maybe we should move on?"

Looking down to her leg, Jack then looked back up to her. "Sounds like a plan." Letting go of her leg, he got to his feet. Before moving back to the tee box, he helped her to her feet. "You okay?"

"Yup," she said as she tested her leg. "Remember turn your club to the left a bit."

"Will do," Jack said as he picked his club up. Turning to look at Sam, Jack completely forgot about teeing off and walked straight over to her. Placing a hand on her cheek, he planted a kiss on her lips, then quickly moved back to the tee box and swung. His ball went straight down the fairway. It landed in the middle.

Amazed that his ball went straight this time around, Sam smiled brightly. She wasn't sure if it was because of the advice she had given him, or the kiss he had given her. At the moment, she didn't want to figure it out. Instead she just took her turn.

  
  


*****

SEVENTH HOLE

  
  


"Cool another short hole," Jack said with excitement. "And no water either."

Laughing and smiling, Sam limped over to her tee box. "But plenty of sand traps."

"Oh. Damn, I hate those things. I would like to use a zat gun on the person who invented those stupid things," Jack said as he watched Sam, rather closely.

"They aren't fun, that's for sure," Sam replied as she wiggled her hips and swung at her ball.

"Damn, I lost sight of it."

"It went over the green thingy," Jack told her as he pointed towards the green.

Not even bothering to correct him, she simply limped back to the cart. "Thanks. You're turn." 

Realizing her leg hurt and she won't tell him, Jack decided that when they got to the ninth hole, they would quit. He needed her to be in good shape when they went out on their next mission.

Not exactly concentrating, Jack swung at his ball. Once he hit it, he lost sight of it. "Where'd that go?"

Looking up and back at Jack, Sam spoke. "Sorry, I wasn't paying attention."

"Okay, no worries. I'll search for it," Jack replied as he jumped into the cart. "Let's go."

As Sam went to search for her ball, Jack wandered around looking for his. "I can't find it," he finally admitted.

"I don't know," Sam replied offering no help to him. "Can you pull the flag out, please?" 

"Sure," Jack said as he walked over to it. As he looked down, he smiled then laughed. "Oh man!"

Not to sure what was wrong with Jack, Sam limped over to him. "What? What's wrong?"

"I don't believe this."

"Believe what?" Sam questioned, not understanding a thing.

Pointing down with his putter, Jack answered. "That."

Looking down, Sam saw what he was talking about. Sitting beside the flag in the cup was his ball. "You got to be kidding."

"Nope. I think I just got a hole in one," Jack concluded as he did a little dance.

"That's exactly what you got," Sam replied in shock as she placed a hand on her forehead and watched Jack do his little dance. "How can that be?"

"Pure luck," Jack said as he stop dancing and bent down to retrieve his ball then pull the flag out. "I'll wait here as you hit your's."

Giving him a dirty look, Sam walked back to her ball. Lining up her putt, she gently hit the ball which rolled down the small hill and straight into the cup. "Well I got two."

"Yup, and I got one. I should frame that score card. I've gone from worse to good."

"Better."

"Huh?" Jack questioned as he put the flag back in the cup and followed Sam to the cart.

"Better?"

Hopping into the cart, Sam waited till Jack was in before starting off. "You've gone from worse to better, not good. We still have twelve holes left."

"Picky, picky," Jack teased.

Deciding not to answer him with words, she answered him with her driving skills. She cut the corner a little too sharp and Jack had to hold onto to the arm of the cart to stay in. 

"Hey!"

"Sorry, I didn't want to run over the innocent little squirrel," Sam answered, ever so innocently.

"What squirrel?" Jack questioned, not believing her for a second.

"The squirrel that ran pass us," Sam explained as she kept a straight face.

"Uh huh," Jack replied as he eyed her. There was no squirrel at all. She just did that to get back at him.

  
  
  
  


****

  
  


The eighth hole had been an adventure. It was extremely long, and Sam had gone from the right side to the left side to the right side and finally back to the left side when her ball ended up a short putt away from the cup. Jack on the other end hand, had hit the ball straight down the fairway both times and landed an inch away from the cup. Actually he had managed to get his ball to drop and roll back towards the cup. How he did it, he had no clue. 

  
  


*****

NINTH HOLE

  
  


"How about we save the last nine holes for later?" Jack suggested as he got his tee and ball ready.

"Back nine," Sam corrected.

Looking up at over at her, he just eyed her. "Back nine?"

"We're playing the front nine right now, and other nine holes are called the back nine," Sam explained hoping Jack would understand.

"Okay," he replied as he sort of understood. He understood that there was three periods in hockey but when it came to "front nine and back nine" in golf, he had no clue.

"Why?" 

"Why, what?" Jack asked as he came out of his little world. He had to ask what she was talking about because he had forgotten what he had just asked.

"Why save the back nine for later?"

"Oh, sorry. Because you're hurting."

"I'm fine," Sam reassured.

"Ya right! Ever since I nailed you, you've been limping and it's been getting worse," Jack told her as he swung his club and hit his ball. "Damn, sand trap." His ball had ended up in the middle of the trap right before the green. "That would of been another hole in one, if it wasn't for the trap."

"And if the cup was a little closer to where the trap was," Sam pointed out. When she saw Jack make a face at her, she smiled. Moving to her tee box, she put her tee into the ground and put a new ball on the tee. She had changed from pink to yellow. "I've had worse done to me."

"Sam," Jack said softly as he walked from his tee box to her's.

"Jack, I'm fine," Sam assured.

Walking away from her tee box, so he won't get hit, he walked to the cart. Standing beside it, he tried his best to change her mind. "Come on, you're limping like crazy. Let's just save the back nine for later."

Lining herself up for her swing, Sam knew Jack was right. Even putting pressure on her leg hurt. Stupid golf ball. They too, could be deadly weapons. Trying to avoid putting any pressure on her leg, she swung her club. She felt herself make contact with her ball and sent it sailing towards the flag. Bending down and picking her tee up, she then turned to Jack. "If we ever run out of things to use against the Goa'uld, we could always use golf balls." 

Smiling then laughing, Jack agreed. "Sure, sounds like a plan. Nice shot."

"Thanks," Sam smiled back. 

  
  


*****

  
  


After the last hole, the ninth hole, Jack had dropped Sam off at her car, while he went and returned his rented clubs and the cart. As she sat in her car, she counted the score card up. After adding it up a few times, she couldn't believe her eyes. Jack had beat her by one. That couldn't be.

How could he have done that? But then the hole in one came into mind and the kiss. After that kiss, his golfing got a whole lot better.

"Sam?" Jack questioned as he got into the driver's side of her car. "Hey Sam!"

Coming out of her own little word, Sam looked over to Jack. "You beat me."

"I beat you?"

"Yes."

"How? I was doing really crappy out there."

"I don't know, but you beat me."

"How can that be? Did you count that right?" Jack quizzed.

Handing him the card, she answered. "I counted twice. You count it."

"Sure," Jack replied as he took the card. A minute later, he spoke up. "I beat you."

"See, I told you."

"How?"

"I don't know. Ever since you kissed me, you got better."

Dropping the card on the dashboard, Jack turned in his seat and looked over to Sam. "Oh ya, the kiss. Maybe you were my good luck charm."

"I'm starting to think so, or maybe hitting me helped. I don't know."

"I am so sorry about that," Jack told her as he took her hand in his. "I never meant to hit you."

"Ya, I know. Don't worry about it."

"I do," Jack replied as he moved closer to her. 

"You know those two words could get you into a lot of trouble, depending on how you take it," Sam told him.

Stopping mere inches from her face, Jack smiled. "I said that to myself earlier, too. And you know, you're right."

"I know, I have to be right about something," Sam teased.

"Oh ya, but let me tell you this. I'm right about kissing you."

"Are you?" she questioned.

"Oh ya," Jack replied as he closed the distance between them and gave her a passionate kiss. 

  
  


**********

Sam and Jack golf the back nine. Next!


	2. Default Chapter Title

Reviving Faith  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the original characters, they belong to their respective owner. However, Carmen, her parents, and James belong to me. Thank you.  
  
Part 2: (Of Candy)  
(Okay, here's Part 2! At the suggestion of a reviewer, there will be a conflict between Maureen and Carmen. This story is meant to introduce Carmen a little more. You will also meet James, but he'll be better explained in Part 3. Please note that I am not Jewish, but I did try my best to describe the holiday. If you have any complaints or comments specific to the holiday parts of this story, place a review, but no flames please! I hope that this offends no one!)  
  
***********************************  
  
The alarm clock blared in Carmen's ears and she absent minded ley flung a pillow in it's direction. It missed and the loud ringing continued. She buried her face in the mattress sheets in a common, movie-like fashion, "Stupid clock."   
  
A light knocking on the wall next to her bed made her sit up, "Yes?"   
  
"Carmen, please turn that clock off." Called a young man's voice, complete with a heavy Scottish accent.   
  
"You weren't sleeping, why does it bother you?"   
  
"Dear, please, it's annoying."   
  
"Okay James, you win." Carmen said, exasperatingly, and flung out her hand for the clock. After a few seconds, she pressed down on the button and the ringing came to an abrupt end.   
  
"Thank you." Called James.   
  
Carmen had to smile, "You're welcome Jimmy." She hauled herself out of bed and pulled on a rather tattered robe. The floor was like ice under her bare feet and she scampered to the nearest rug.   
  
"Brr." She whispered, and pulled the robe's belt tighter around her waist. Glancing around the room, she tried to judge the distance from her space to the bathroom and how cold she'd get while moving.   
  
"Carmen, you are such a sissy!" She whispered to herself, and laughing at her own joke, ran to the bathroom. With shaking hands, she turned the shower hands on full and waited. The man she'd met last night suddenly became the object of her thoughts.   
  
'Mark Cohen,' Carmen smiled at her mental recollection of his name, 'He seems like a decent guy.'   
  
Everything appeared to simply have come together last night. Coming out of nowhere, fixing her camera, and asking her to go with his circle of friends on Christmas day for some food. As odd as it all was, it was all right in a way. Just right.  
  
*****************************************  
  
Mark Cohen pulled on his socks, completing his wardrobe for the morning. He saw no sense to putting on shoes until he left. One of Mark's many quirks. He did, however, pull on another pair or socks, just to stop the cold from reaching his feet. A knock on the door made him look up. Roger stood there, in mid-yawn, with his hand on the door. The expression on Roger's face made Mark almost break out laughing. His best friend was not the most composed person when he yawned.   
  
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the musician spoke, "Collins is here. He thought he'd stop by early before everyone goes to the Life Cafe."   
  
"Is that all?"   
  
"No, Mimi told him about Carmen and he wants to hear what happened."  
  
The filmmaker rolled his eyes, why was it that every little detail in his life got brought out in public. Hell, he'd taken more heat than Maureen had when she'd left him. Cindy, his sister, had almost seemed to be accusing him of making Maureen a lesbian.   
  
"Alright, tell Collins that I'll be there in a second."   
  
"Sure." Roger left Mark to his thoughts.   
  
Stretching, Mark stood and began to walk toward the door. The next thing he knew, he fell forward onto the floor. Groaning in pain, he rolled onto his back to get a look at what had tripped him. The corner of a brown cardboard box stuck out from under the bed. Instead of just moving when he had hit it, it was pressed against the metal bar, causing him to fall over it.   
  
For a minute, he couldn't recollect what was in it. Out of sheer curiosity, he sat up and pulled open the flaps. Realization and shame came to his eyes when he gazed down on the contents of the box. Sighing, he pushed the container back under the bed and got up off the floor. Brushing the dirt off of his knees, he made his way out into the main room.  
  
**************************************************  
  
Carmen stared up at the clock, it was now 5:00pm in the afternoon. The entire day almost, she had wasted. Instead of working on a project and getting a jump on the other employees, she'd sat there. As the appointed time drew nearer and nearer, she became more and more nervous. Her anxiety level sprung up a notch every time that second hand ticked. For about the last hour though, she'd been having an argument with herself.  
  
'Carmen, c'mon, lighten up! You're simply going out with some people.'  
  
'Yeah, some people you've never met before.' Said this little voice in her head. Carmen wasn't crazy, but her conscience sometimes took on a life of it's own during a mental conversation.  
  
'I know, I know! I have to start living sometime though. What am I gonna do?'  
  
'More important is what he does.'  
  
'I won't die alone! I want to have a boyfriend. The last time I had a boyfriend was in 7th grade.'  
  
'It's been that long? My, how time flies. Listen Carmen, you've been hurt before, don't set yourself up for more pain.'  
  
'The incident that you are speaking of wasn't in my control.'   
  
'Yes, that is true, but remember what men will do. The only man a girl can trust is her father, and even that isn't always true these days.'  
  
Carmen leaned her head against the arm of the couch. She was scaring herself again, over a stupid incident in her past. In the long ago past too, mind you.  
  
****************************************************  
  
Mark, Collins, Mimi, and Roger stood outside the apartment building where Carmen lived, staring up at the many levels of darkened windows.  
  
"Okay, now how do we find out which one she's in?" Roger asked, his eyes scanning the structure for any hint of life.  
  
"I don't know. I didn't get an exact number." Mark shrugged sheepishly, placing his hands in his coat pockets.  
  
Collins sighed, "This oughta be a helluva lotta fun then."  
  
The group laughed despite the freezing cold. Anything to keep from becoming Bohemian blocks of ice on the sidewalk. Mimi looked at the men around her, and, making up her mind, strode inside the building. The guys followed, each contemplating ideas on how to discover one person out of many. Once inside, Mimi rapped on the first door to her left in the same manner that she'd knocked on Roger's door that one night. An elderly woman answered the door and smiled at her.  
  
"Can I help you?"  
  
"Yeah." Mimi smiled her most sincere smile. A smile that a little girl would give to one of her mother's friends. "Do you know what apartment Carmen Keller lives in?"  
  
The old woman smiled, "Well, I know the girl. She's such a sweetheart. I believe that she's on the second floor, but I'm not sure what number she is. There is a man in number B20 who could probably tell you. He knows everyone in this building."  
  
"Okay, thanks ma'am." Mimi replied, and waved good-bye as the door closed. She turned to the 3 men with her, "Well, c'mon guys! On to apartment B20!"   
  
Roger grinned, "Race ya!"  
  
All of them ran up the nearest stairs, with Mimi in the lead. Roger followed close behind her. Laughter filled the stairwell as the company literally fell onto the second floor. With a quick grab, the musician had seized his girlfriend's foot and had pulled her back to him. The ex - dancer proved her agility by releasing herself from his grasp and beating them all upstairs.   
  
"You win." Whispered Roger, pulling her close.  
  
She smiled, "Don't I always?"  
  
He nodded and it earned him a nice kiss. Collins and Mark rolled their eyes and looked for apartment B20. As it turned out, it was at the end of the hallway, like Collins had thought it would be. Mark got to knock on the door this time, and a young man answered.  
  
"Hello." The voice was tinted with a Scottish sound to it.   
  
"Uh, hi. Listen, I'm looking for a girl named Carmen Keller. This old lady downstairs said that you might know which apartment she's in."  
  
"Oh. Well, the lass is right next door here, apartment B18. Are you some of her friends?"   
  
"Yes, we're coming to get her for a dinner party."  
  
"That's nice, well, if you'll excuse me, I have some work to do. Have a nice day now." The others moved to head back one apartment, but Collins lingered a bit. He smiled at the man, and the Scottish sounding man smiled back at him. Then, out of who knows what, nervousness, probably, the man in B20 closed the door, pretending to have a cough. A short laugh was gained at this and Collins ran to the others.   
  
"Well, ain'tcha gonna knock?" Asked an impatient Mimi, rubbing her cold hands together.  
  
Mark looked shocked and he pushed up his glasses, "Yeah. I will."   
  
He extended his hand in the shape of a fist, and gave three medium level knocks. For about 2 seconds, nothing happened, and the worry that Carmen might be playing him for a fool came into Mark's head. His prayers were answered, however, when the soft voice of the fellow filmmaker called, "Just a minute!"  
  
*******************************************  
  
Inside, Carmen was rushing around, attempting to get everything she needed to leave. She had her coat and was trying desperately to apply some last minute makeup. Carmen never really had used a lot of makeup before, but it was a small gathering of new people. What had that statistic said? 'It takes 10 seconds to make a first impression, and 20 minutes to change it?' She wasn't sure if that was it, but it sounded right. When the last piece of cosmetic assistance was applied, and a quick one over was taken in the mirror, she hurried to the door.  
  
"Hi." She gave a sweet smile to the group outside her apartment. Mark just stood there, he looked at her and she stared back. Suddenly, a small tap on his shoulder, broke Mark's trance like state. Collins gestured for his filmmaker friend to introduce him to Carmen.   
  
"Carmen, this is Tom Collins." He motioned toward his friend who stepped forward to shake her hand.  
  
"Most people just call me Collins."  
  
"It's nice to meet you. That only leaves two people now."  
  
"Hmm?" Asked Collins, knowing slightly what she meant.  
  
"There was two other people that Mark mentioned. Joanne and Maureen, I believe."  
  
Mark gulped slightly, he really didn't want to introduced Carmen to the lesbian lovers of the group. Every girl he ever liked seem to turn out to be a lesbian. In some small way, he was already picturing Carmen, Maureen, and Joanne in an odd love triangle. Maureen would easily dominate Carmen, the girl's sweet nature would give in without a fight. Somehow, he managed to push these thoughts out of his head and gave a smile,   
  
"Yeah, they'll be at the cafe."   
  
"Alright then gang, let's get going." Mimi said, suddenly giddy with holiday cheer. The holidays were better for her nowadays, mainly because she didn't do drugs anymore and she had Roger. With high spirits the now group of 5 people, set out for the short trip to the cafe.  
  
***********************************************  
  
Maureen sat in a chair at the largest table in the life cafe. One of her legs was propped up on the edge of the chair and it supported her arm on that side. A sitting position that stated the words, 'I am so damn bored and sick of waiting.' Joanne sat next to her, but her manner was a bit more, refined, than her lover's. The waiter came over to the table.  
  
"Do you guys wants to order something while you wait?"  
  
Joanne looked at Maureen, who was staring into space, and decided to answer, "No, we'll wait for the rest of our group to get here."  
  
"Speaking of which, do you know when they'll be here?" The waiter was also sick of waiting.  
  
Maureen came to life and to the attack, "What? You got so much business that you're dying for this table? They'll get here when they get here!"  
  
The shocked waiter put up both hands in defense and back away.   
  
'Must be that time of the month again.' Thought Joanne.  
  
Once the waiter was out of hearing range, Maureen leaned close to her lover, "Where in the fuck are they?"  
  
The other woman shrugged, "I don't know! All Mark said was that they were stopping to pick up a friend. Some girl named Carmen."  
  
"His sister?"  
  
"No, that's Cindy. Supposedly, Mark helped this new girl with her broken camera and now they're friends. She was alone and he invited her to dinner."   
  
Maureen was quiet for a few minutes, and then looked rather upset, "If this girl gets in my way..."  
  
"What way? You aren't dating Mark."   
  
"I know, but he's my lapdog and she better not - "  
  
Joanne cut her off, "Use him like you use him?"  
  
Maureen became silent again, she considered Mark to be hers. She may not be dating him, but the last thing she wanted was for someone else to come before his frequent trips to help her with her broken down equipment. Fortunately, she didn't have time to dwell on this as the group suddenly showed up at the cafe.  
  
*********************************************  
  
The door closed behind them and the biting cold was suddenly gone as the group of 5 entered the best of all the hangouts - the Life Cafe. Roger was the first to spy Joanne, who was waving at them, and they proceeded toward the table. The lawyer was the first to greet and hug everyone, Maureen, in her present mood, had to be coaxed into any warm embraces. Mark gave her a small hug, and then presented Carmen,   
  
"Maureen, this is Carmen Keller."  
  
Maureen had a smile that looked friendly, but Carmen saw hate in her ice cold eyes. Still, she managed to smile herself and shook Maureen's hand.  
  
"It's nice to meet you." Came the actresses voice, one of bitterness doused in the syrupy sweet desire to hide her true nature. Mark saw through it, he knew what kind of person his ex-girlfriend was.   
  
"Look, Carmen, let's sit over here." He motioned for her to sit next to him. Mark may be goofy, but he wasn't stupid. With Collins on one side of her and himself on the other, they made it impossible for Maureen to be near the new guest. Joanne sat right across from Carmen and she nudged Maureen lightly,  
  
"She's kinda cute, I think." Whispered Joanne.  
  
Maureen sharply elbowed her lover in the ribs. Things weren't going bad enough, and now this.   
  
Joanne whispered back to her, "She looks a little like you."  
  
"Mark probably likes that certain type of girl." Shrugged the actress, unimpressed, then, a mean thought entered her head, "Joanne, what was that term that we heard Mark's sister use when she said she didn't like me?"  
  
After thinking a moment, the other answered, "It was shiksa or something like that."  
  
"What's it mean?"  
  
"I think it's a derogatory term. It's a girl who is dating or married to a Jewish man, but she's not Jewish herself."   
  
"You think that Carmen girl is Jewish?"  
  
"Not really, she doesn't look it."  
  
Maureen began to think, there were two sides to this insult, but she was going to use it anyway.   
  
********************************************   
  
As dinner progressed, everyone asked Carmen questions about herself. Every person eventually formed their own opinion about her, and they were all good ones. Carmen was sweet and shy. She didn't brag or boast and she wasn't very flashy. Pretty much the only female in the group who exhibited those traits. Eventually, as Maureen had hoped, the topic turned to religion.  
  
"So, Mark, is your mom gonna be happy that you're dating a shiksa?"  
  
Everything stopped. Surprisingly enough, they all knew what the term meant, and were shocked that a non Jewish person like Maureen would use it. Carmen just sat there, her eyes held more hurt in them than anger. Mark, however, was furious. Yes, it was true that he was not dating Carmen, but Maureen had angered him with her choice of words.  
  
"For your information, Carmen is half Jewish, and since you are not a Jew, you can't even use that term anyway!" Yelled Mark  
.  
Suddenly, Joanne spoke up, "Wait, Carmen, which one of your parents was Jewish?"  
  
"My mother was."  
  
"Then you're Jewish. Whatever the religion the mother is, becomes the religion of the child. If had been your father that was Jewish and your mother that was Christian, then you would be a Christian."  
  
Maureen gave a small snort, "Well, she may not be a shiksa, but she's still a half-breed!"  
  
Carmen looked up and addressed everyone at the table, "I may be half-bred, but I am not going to participate in any kind of mudslinging battle. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."   
  
With that, she stood up, pulled on her coat, and left the cafe. Everyone sat there for a moment, saying nothing.   
  
Finally, Mark stood up, "Half-breed? What the hell was that all about? It's religion, and I don't even think you can use that term for religion! Maureen, I hope you're real proud of yourself."  
  
Mark left the restaurant. Maureen whacked Joanne on the shoulder, "You're supposed to back me up!"  
  
Mimi intervened, "I'm glad she helped Carmen. You've been staring daggers at her all evening and going loco whenever Mark paid attention to her."  
  
"Yeah, besides, the way you talked just proved that you were looking for anything to hurt her." Roger noted, "Hey, and wouldn't you have also been a shiksa when you dated Mark?"  
  
Maureen hadn't thought about that, and in the minds of the others, she hadn't been thinking all day. Still, despite the recent events, they all decided to stay and finish their meals.  
  
*****************************************************  
  
Mark ran outside, and into the quickly falling night. Snow had begun to fall again, blocking visibility. Still, he could make out a form moving slowly up the sidewalk.   
  
"Carmen!" He yelled.   
  
The form stopped and waited as he ran towards it. When he reached her, the combination of the cold air and the run had shortened his breath.   
  
"Hi Mark." She said, not looking directly at him.   
  
"Listen, Carmen, I want to apologize for Maureen. She's my ex-girlfriend, and I should've told you that before you met her."  
  
"I thought she was a lesbian."  
  
"She is, she left me for another woman."  
  
"Ouch. Mark, I'm not holding anything against you because of her. I still like you."  
  
"You do?"  
  
"Yeah, do you wanna come celebrate Hanukkah with me? It's the one I'm celebrating this year."  
  
"I'd love too."  
  
"Do you have your worship items? I have the Menorah and all the prayers written down. You need a Yarmulke."  
  
He thought for a second, "I have one. I took all my stuff with me when I left home. It's just been so long since I celebrated, without the family around I lost faith in it."  
  
She laughed that soft laugh that he'd begun to love. Suddenly, he felt her fingers entwine with his and give his hand a soft squeeze. All the coldness in his body seemed to melt away and he smiled at her. They began to walk back to his apartment.  
  
****************************************  
  
About 5 minutes later, the door to Mark, Roger, and Mimi's apartment swung open and the couple walked inside. Mark headed right for his bedroom and he got down on his knees beside the bed. Taking a deep breath, he reached under the bed and pulled out the box that he'd tripped over earlier. She knelt down beside him and peered into the box.   
  
"Is this all your old worship stuff?"  
  
"Yeah." He whispered, pulling out the yarmulke. He held it in the palm of his right hand and slowly rubbed the cloth material with the fingers on his left hand.   
  
Carmen smiled, "It's pretty, when did you get that?"  
  
"My parents bought it for me before I moved out. I wore it about 5 times before I kinda had to give up religion to support myself."  
  
"I know the feeling. Hey, c'mon, let's go to my place and light the candles."  
  
"Sure." He pushed the box back under his bed and they left. Once over at Carmen's place, she hung up his coat and went to get some matches. He looked around the apartment, and decided that it was nice. It was an apartment designed for two people, which made him wonder if she had a roommate as well. Carmen laughed at the question.  
  
"No, I like to live alone. The guy next door, James, runs the place, well, kinda runs it for the guy who owns it. James and I are friends and he lets me rent this place for the price of a one person apartment."   
  
Mark thought a moment, "Is he the guy with a Scottish accent?"  
  
"Uh huh."  
  
"We met him. When we came over here he told us where your apartment was."  
  
"Yeah, he's a nice guy. His parents live in the states, but his sister and her family are still over in Scotland. He's the guy that I pose for. You know, the paintings?"  
  
"Yes, you told me about that." For a minute, he was quiet, then, he asked cautiously, "You don't have any interest in him, do you?"  
  
"Jimmy? Good heavens, no! Besides, he's not interested in girls."  
  
Mark took her hint and said no more about the Scottish neighbor. She handed him the matches, "Will you light the candle, please?"   
  
"Yeah." He lite the ninth candle, the Shammash, and lit the appropriate amount of other candles with the ninth candle. A piece of paper was slipped into his hand, and he looked down at it. "Are you sure you want me to read the prayers? It's your house."  
  
"I want you to. It always reminds me of when I was a child when someone else reads them."  
  
He complied, and began to read:  
  
"Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu melech  
ha - olam, asher kideshanu b'mitzvotav  
vitzivanu l'hadlik ner shel Chanukah."  
  
"Want to read the prayer 'Giving Thanks for Miracles'?" Carmen asked, when Mark had completed the 'Blessing for the Candles' prayer.  
  
"Sure," Mark smiled and turned over the page to get the appropriate words:  
  
"Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu melech  
ha - olam, she - asah nissim lavotanu  
ba - yamim hahem bazman hazer"  
  
He glanced over at Carmen, her eyes were shut, enjoying the sound of his voice. On an impulse, he stroked her cheek and the soft brown eyes opened. With a smile, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small object. Mark laughed when he saw it.  
  
"A dreidel?"  
  
"Yeah, do you wanna play?"  
  
"Believe it or not, I really do."  
  
They sat down on the couch, and put the small, clay top on the table top. Carmen actually had Hanukkah gelt, it had been a gift from her mother by mail. It took about five minutes for Mark to be defeated by Carmen, but he won the second round. They put the game away and she got up and got both of them some tea. As the tea flavor mixed with the boiling water, they began to talk.  
  
"So, where'd you grow up?"  
  
"Scars dale. It was, sorta boring, but it had it's high points."  
  
"Sounds like fun. I grew up in New York."   
  
"Hmm, hey, listen, I want to ask you a question. It's something that not knowing the answer to has gotten me in trouble before."  
  
"Go ahead."  
  
"How many boyfriends have you had and do any of them live near here?"  
  
She laughed out loud, "Oh my! Well, the last time I went on a date was in 7th grade so you don't have to worry."  
  
Mark was shocked, "7th grade?! Why haven't you dated since then?"  
  
Silence fell and she looked away, "It's kinda painful to talk about."  
  
"Were you hurt in some way?"  
  
"Yes, I was walking home from the school the day I broke up with my boyfriend. I was a little upset, so I wasn't paying attention. All I can remember is this guy pulling me into an alley. He tried to rape me, but a policeman caught him and I only got a few scratches."  
  
Mark drew in his breath sharply and looked at her. She was staring at the wall, he eyes filled with tears, "Geez Carmen, I'm sorry I shouldn't have brought it up."  
  
"It's okay, it's been about 10 years now. I probably should get over it." She wiped away her tears.  
  
A strange feeling came over Mark, he didn't know what to say to comfort her, but her body language seemed to be pleading with him for help. He laid his hand softly on her cheek and slowly moved her head so that her eyes met his. She looked pretty when she cried, one of those rare girls. Mark didn't wait for her approval and he moved in to kiss her. He pressed his lips softly on hers and she met him appreciatively. This seemed so right to Carmen, she needed to be kissed. His hands cupped her face and the softly falling tears wet his hands slightly. Every second of this moment they were treasuring, not wanting it to end. He was being careful, not wanting to push her to far after all she'd been through.   
  
Finally, they broke apart to regain their breath. Carmen felt the immense heat in her lips and she savored it, "That was incredible." She whispered.  
  
"Yeah." He said, running his fingers through her short brown hair. They moved in to kiss again, but a knock on the door stopped everything. She jumped up and opened the door to Collins.   
  
"Hey Carmen, listen, is Mark here?"  
  
"Yeah." Called Mark, coming up from behind her.  
  
"Mark, man, they're doing gifts at your apartment and Roger and Mimi want you there."  
  
"I don't know if I can..." He started.  
  
"It's okay if you want to go, I've got to go to sleep anyway. Works starts up tomorrow." Carmen said, laying a hand on his arm.  
  
He smiled at her, "Collins, would you give us a minute?"  
  
Collins laughed and stepped away from the door.   
  
"Come back tomorrow for prayers again." Whispered Carmen and she and Mark kissed again.  
  
"I will." He turned to leave, but at the last second, turned around, "Carmen, will you be my girlfriend?"  
  
"You know it." She gave a giggle of delight.  
  
"I love you Carmen."   
  
"I love you too, Mark." She whispered, and blew a kiss to him as he walked out the door. Once alone, Carmen smiled to herself and thought of what had happened that night, "Well Carmen," She said to herself, "There's nothing like reviving faith." 


End file.
